There was a rose. Heavy and wild. Feeling like a tunnel or going down. He loved sleeping under the stars.
She loved being in the painting. But it doesn’t matter. It’s just words.
What about the beer? Special kind. It really is. Let me fly. I’m just in here listening and loving. We only dream when we sleep deeply. Sinking. Into all the real truth.
I love you, I make you love me. Cause you are all I need. Like special beer and wine. And all that’s good. Nothing else is worth it. Living for. 😢
There’s a rose. And everybody loves her. And she’s dying.